


Alisha Versus Rubber Sheets and Rose Petals

by runrarebit



Series: Misfits Moments [8]
Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: AU, Accidental Voyeurism, Alisha is not going to put up with this shit, Alternate Timeline, Bottom!Nathan, Dark!Simon, Embarrassment, Embarrassment all the way down, Future!Simon has a bad day, M/M, Pervert!Simon, Simon keeps dead bodies in chest freezers and Alisha finds this suspicious, Sorry for this but some mention of a piss enema, Watersports, in a possible necrophile kind of way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 14:59:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18593641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runrarebit/pseuds/runrarebit
Summary: In which Future Simon's plans come down around his ears, Alisha does not think waking up in creepy rooms is romantic, and Nathan lets Barry get away with things Alisha would never let any boyfriend do.Happens during episode 3 of season 2.





	Alisha Versus Rubber Sheets and Rose Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Um. I think I should TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of someone (Nathan) getting their arse pissed up and Alisha thinking Simon might fuck dead bodies (also Nathan.) Also Simon doing some murdering off screen, but it's Misfits so- I don't know at this point. I feel like I'm labouring a point with this whole Simon likes piss thing when it's not even one of my own kinks personally- it's just the backtracking, the terrible backtracking on his character-
> 
> Honestly I have no excuses.
> 
> Hope you like though, and thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos!

She wakes up in a strange place. She admits, maybe, that she was being a bit stupid— but ever since Curtis told her that they could touch in the vision he had of the future she’s been impatient, waiting for it to happen, something to change— and then being saved by that guy in the mask and _him_ being able to touch her. She just thought he might have the answer.

Like, this place looks mental though— there’s these clocks on the wall, or whatever it is they are, and all these polaroids— what the fuck? There’s her. Again and again— and the others. Seriously, _what the fuck._

She can hear a shower running, so that’s where she heads— even though it would be far more sensible to bolt for the lift and get herself out of here— but she still wants to know. She still _needs_ to know if this guy knows anything that will bring about Curtis touching her sooner. She can’t stand it. Not just him— though she wants his hands on her, his tongue on her, his cock— Nathan running around like the poster boy for deep-dicked sexual satisfaction isn’t helping any either. Who would have thought she’d ever be jealous of that little prick?— but it really isn’t just Curtis that she wants to be able to touch her. Her mum. Her dad— the longer it goes on the hungrier it feels like her skin gets. She just wants to be able to feel human warmth again without the fear of— _memories, all the terrible things that have happened since she got her power_ — she shivers, trying to shake them off. Sometimes she just doesn’t feel like herself anymore. Like she’s tainted by it. 

Her hand brushes the guy’s weird superhero costume as she walks past, she lets her fingers clench for a moment, feeling the fabric, the reinforcement in it. What kind of person gets around in something like this? Her stalker, or at least that’s what it’s felt like recently. She wonders what he’s like—

Well, she won’t have to wonder for long, will she? 

She creeps closer to the shower, noting the pallor of the figure behind the glass— that’s when the first niggling strikes. Most people don’t come in that almost blue-white, but she does know one. If this is some of his stupid superhero bullshit, if he’s been playing games with them all—

It is him. It’s fucking _Simon._ And he’s got his cock out— well, of course he does, he’s in the shower, but that is not a thing she ever wants to see or hear about ever again. She knows where it’s _been._

And that’s even without all the thoughts she’s been trying not to have about the fact that he’d kept Nathan’s corpse in the freezer for those couple of days after that psycho ex-whatever she’d been from the secure unit had impaled him on that broken pipe. Like, they shove the corpses of the probation worker and the shapeshifter into the lake, right, but he wouldn’t let them take Nathan. He’d wanted to _keep_ him— sure he’d said it was because he deserved a better burial than they got, but the thought that he’d spent that time doing who knows what with Nathan’s cold, dead body— before the Irishman had resurrected and they’d all discovered he was immortal— was a bit lose-your-dinner over. Like, how do you ask that question anyway? “Hey, Nathan, when you woke up from being dead did your arsehole feel any different?” Oh my God, she can’t believe she even just thought that. Yuck. 

‘What. The. Fuck?’ she asks, knowing her face is showing exactly how unimpressed she is. 

He looks a bit startled, reaching for her, his naked arm dripping water onto the ground. Is he serious? Is that what this is? Some elaborate come-on. 

‘No fucking way,’ she tells him and storms back into the other room. She needs to get her jacket and get out of here, this is too fucking creepy.

She remembers his voice as he’d been kneeling on the tiles in front of Nathan’s pinioned body, covered in the other’s blood, the way he’d snarled, “You’re not leaving this building alive Lucy. I’ll kill everyone here if I have to, to make sure of it.” Thank fuck it hadn’t come to that, but still— Nope. No way. Not the kind of guy whose cock she wants anything to do with.

‘Alisha! Wait!’ she hears him call, turns around to find he’s struggled on a pair of track pants, the cloth sticking obscenely to his wet cock. She can pretty much see it’s entire outline. Her nose wrinkles up, the thought that Nathan must be a real masochist once more crossing her mind. That thing looks _thick._ Too thick. 

She is not letting it anywhere near her. No matter what stupid _white-knight_ bullshit he pulls. ‘Nah, nah. I may look dirty, you might think I’m nothing but a slut, but I’m _not_ the kind of girl who is going to let you piss up her arse!’ she tells him.

‘W-what?!’ he bleats, the arm he had raised again to reach for her dropping weakly to his side. 

Looking at him like that, half naked and dripping everywhere, she realises that he is fit though. She kind of maybe, just for a moment, can see some of what Nathan can see in him. _Nathan._ He’s actually trying to cheat on a boy who would let him do _that._ A boy he just recently _killed a girl_ in avenging. That’s some nerve. ‘And anyway, what about _Nathan?!_ He might be an intolerable little prick but this is a bit much. You’ve got a good thing going there, you’re with someone who will—’ she doesn’t know how to say it, how to find the words to encompass all the weird and gross things Nathan seems happy to do for Simon that she’d never, ever, not in a million-years, ever do for any boyfriend of hers, so she just gestures, flailing her hands at him, ‘—do all that stuff. You’d think you’d be happy with that. How many guys like you, that are into the stuff you’re into, are likely to find someone who’s happy to play along?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ he replies, voice weak and tremulous.

No idea? Who the fuck does he think he’s kidding? ‘You remember last week? Me and Curtis and Kelly come in and find this huge roll of plastic sheeting in the middle of the floor. We’re looking at each other, and you know we were all thinking one of you’d killed another probation worker, and then we hear it. Some slow, _romantic_ jazz, or whatever it was. I don’t know why we didn’t leave; it was like when you see a car crash. We go up there and you’ve got the rose petals out, you’ve got the plastic sheeting on that horrible little mattress of his, you’ve got him all propped up on this mountain of pillows, and you’re on top of him, you’re _inside of him,_ and then Kelly, she’s saying “Oh, sick” or something, just as I hear him tell you that _it’s ok, he wants it, he wants you to **piss up inside of him.**_ ’

‘That wasn’t— I don’t— _what_?’ he whimpers, staring at her with those pale, bulging eyes.

She’s on a roll now. She hates being cheated on, even when she’s already cheated on the guy herself, and more than that she hates it when guys play stupid head-games to try and get into her knickers. ‘I’m going to ring Kelly,’ she tells him, ‘I’m going to tell her all about this, and then she is going to give you a _battering._ I mean, I might not like the prick much, but she’s all maternal or something about him. She is going to kick your head in!’

He staggers to the edge of the bed, ‘I think I need to sit down—’

She keeps half an eye on him as she brings out her phone, waiting for him to do something. He’s gotta try to stop her, doesn’t he? ‘Is Nathan there?’ is the first thing she asks when Kelly answers. He’ll go right off if he hears Simon’s attempting to creep around behind his back, so it’d probably be best if he hears it from Kelly first. Other than Simon— the prick— she’s the best at handling him.

‘Nah, he’s shagging Simon in the toilets.’ 

What? 

She hesitates, her eyes creeping back over to the pale form sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. ‘You sure?’ 

‘Yeah, I can hear ‘em from here. Nathan’s being dead loud, it’s like listening to a cat getting its tail stood on repeatedly. You want a listen?’

‘Not really,’ is what she says, but Kelly’s already taken the phone away from her ear and must be holding it up in the room. Faintly she can hear it, the now alarmingly familiar sound of Nathan getting a good dicking. She cringes at the wail of “Oh God, fuck me Barry! Harder!”

‘See?’ Kelly says as the annoying background sound cuts off. ‘Why? Did ya want to speak to him?’

‘No,’ she replies, hating how uncertain her voice is. ‘No, it’s nothing. Sorry.’

‘It’s ok,’ Kelly replies. ‘You coming in today or nah?’

‘Yeah,’ she replies weakly, ‘Yeah. It’s just something’s come up. I’m not sure when I’ll get there.’

‘I’ll cover for ya if I can, but I can’t promise anything.’

‘Thanks Kell,’ she says, hanging up the phone once the other girl’s said goodbye. She looks down at the thing for a moment, before looking over at the Simon that’s not the Simon currently fucking Nathan at the Community Centre. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Simon,’ he replies, blinking at her in confusion, ‘But Simon from the future— or I think it was the future. Something’s gone very wrong. I should have known when Nathan didn’t die falling off the roof— when he wasn’t there for me to save from those people under Rachel’s control— _This isn’t my past._ Oh God. _Where am I?_ ’

‘I can’t help you there mate,’ she replies with a shrug. ‘Maybe you should talk to Simon— I mean, the Simon fucking Nathan in the toilets at the Community Centre right now, not _yourself_ — about it. This sort of stuff is more his area.’

‘I need to find Seth,’ is what he says, lurching to his feet and stumbling over to his uniform.

‘Who the fuck’s Seth?’ she asks, but he ignores her. 

‘You can’t tell anyone,’ is the last thing he says to her as he flings himself into the lift, frantically pressing buttons. ‘Please, Alisha. Promise me you won’t tell anyone about me.’

He seems pretty upset, and she knows what Simon can get like when he’s upset— she shudders again, thinking of his cold, dead eyes as he’d stood over that girl’s corpse— so she gives him the promise— and then has to wait for him to get out of the lift and the bloody thing to come back up before she can get in it and leave. _Two Simons?_ What a head fuck.


End file.
